When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourned, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love. . .
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land. . .
With the countless torches lit,
Wiith the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads. . .
With the tolling, tolling bells' perpetual clang,
here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
Добавлено: Вс Янв 13, 2008 10:25 am Заголовок сообщения:
Deather писал(а):
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourned, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love. . .
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land. . .
With the countless torches lit,
Wiith the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads. . .
With the tolling, tolling bells' perpetual clang,
here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
It's perfect that someone know Walt Whitman. I read him just in translation on Russian, but even so he is very impressive. And Bestыжая, why you said that it's depress poem? I think it's sad, but nevertheless more beautiful than depress
I have written a new poem. It's very optimistic, It's about love.
I now it's not a masterpiece , but....
I saw deep forest in you eyes
so wild and so strong
And now I'm thinking all the time
and time is going slow
Can't stand no more, my darling eyes,
I open my last gate
my tender heart without lies
without pain and hate
I give for you, be careful, please
Don't break it any more
Coz you the one for me, my prince,
You are my wоnder I adore
sorry, but if first poem was so sad, it was more impressive. but - on the other hand I can't write even bad poem on English and therefore - I falling back into the shadow with my criticism
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